Degrees of Separation
by heyitssam
Summary: No there's no starting over, without finding closure, you'd take them back, no hesitation, that's when you know you've reached the sixth degree of separation. Post-5x24 "Watershed".


**Disclaimer: They are not mine.**

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**First**

* * *

Kate Beckett exhaustedly jams her key into the lock of her new apartment. Her feet aches from standing up all day, shoulders heavy, mind weary. It was a long day on the job, in between tactical trainings and learning the ins and outs of the agency.

Despite that, she likes it. She feels that she is learning a lot, and she's barely been here a month. Her days are good. Long and busy. Always starting off at the break of dawn with a run.

But she hates coming home at night.

Her place is too empty, barely filled with a few necessities, an excuse of a place to stay. She hasn't found it in herself to buy anything more than what she needs.

_She can't._

She takes of her shoes and unlatches her gun and her badge, placing it on top of the counter. Her head is pounding and all she wants to do is go to bed, but she's too wound up.

Pouring herself a glass of red, she looks around, checking where she last put it down. It's not on her kitchen counter where she usually leaves it. She walks around, checking under the couch and towards her room to check her bed.

Not there.

She swears she remembers bringing it home after her run the other day. She pulls up her sheets, flips over her pillows, even going through her bathroom and drawers.

She heaves herself on the couch, heart thudding, eyes watering, trying to think. She couldn't have lost it.

Her chest constricts, she takes a big gulp from her glass.

Feeling thoroughly depleted of energy, she slides down on the couch, closing her eyes.

Something is uncomfortably poking at her back. She reaches down under the cushion.

There it is.

Her heart eases up and her breath comes easier. She wonders what her old self would think of her now, almost having a breakdown over misplacing a tattered copy of Heat Wave.

She wonders what the old Kate Beckett would think of her being so broken over being away from Richard Castle.

* * *

**Second**

* * *

He stares into space.

That's what he does right now.

The sea breeze whips through his hair. He barely notices.

Alexis is still on her Amazon rainforest adventure. His mother is off… somewhere.

He took that postponed trip to Bora Bora.

He hasn't talked to anyone in days, except for a few texts from his daughter, to reassure him that she's safe. He wishes he could reassure her the same, but he could barely get himself up from bed most days.

_She left._

And whatever excruciating pain he _thought_ he felt when she turned down his proposal… it's nothing compared to the aftermath.

The aftermath leaves him breathless.

It's waking up without her in his bed. Going home and finding the absence of the little things that she leaves behind. Ordering a single cup of coffee at their favorite shop. Having lunch and having no one to steal his fries. It's the way his bed feels empty at night, and when no one is there to tease him about being an excitable child.

Being at the loft feels more like being tortured than being at home. The Hamptons will be worse.

He misses her.

He's hurt, and angry, but his chest feels like someone stuck blade in it while twisting it around when she's not _here_.

He can't breathe.

He just misses her.

* * *

**Third**

* * *

Like the book, it jumps out at her at the most unexpected moment.

She gets a phone call from her dad, asking how she is.

_How are you, Katie?_

_Fine. Work is good, it's challenging, keeps me on my toes._

_I knew you wouldn't have any trouble._

It has been the same conversation in different variations.

Except today.

_I bumped into Martha this afternoon._

Her breath catches, she clears her throat.

_Yeah? How is she? _

_She seemed well._ Her father answers casually. _She was wearing this ridiculously large hat, so I asked where she was off to._

_Probably the Hampton's._ Kate answers automatically.

_Yes, that's what she said. I think she went up to see Richard._

Kate swallows.

_But I don't think she found him there. She mentioned something about Bora Bora._

The phone call ended minutes, or probably hours ago. She has no idea.

Thinking about him going off alone, on the trip that was supposed to be theirs has rendered her motionless.

She would probably think herself dead if not for her own shallow breaths.

She closes her eyes, and opens it almost immediately, suddenly frantic. She jumps from the couch and goes to her closet.

It's on top of the bottom pile.

A sweatshirt she has long stolen from him.

The Boba Fett design in front is cracked from constant use and wash. She hugs it to her chest.

She hasn't cried, ever since they split up on the park, she hasn't cried.

Even when he didn't call to say goodbye, she didn't cry.

Now the dam seems to be breaking. She can't control her breathing; it's coming in short, sharp gasps.

And when the first tear leaks out, it seems as if the whole ocean has broken.

Kate sinks to the floor, clutching the shirt.

She folds on herself and waits for it to run out.

* * *

**Fourth**

* * *

Rick feels well.

After weeks of feeling like a dead man walking, he finally feels better.

Alexis is back. He told her what happened and his little girl looked at him with sad eyes, and hugged her with everything she had.

He couldn't handle the sad eyes, so he forced himself to be better. He is half surprised to find out that forcing yourself to smile does actually help.

He is just about to finish his ten-mile run.

Maybe exercising actually helps too, it makes him feel productive, and some of his older clothes have started to fit him again.

He feels spirited, or as spirited as one could be in his situation. But it's better than the numbness that he felt just a few weeks back.

Rick slows to a walk as he approaches the busy streets, trying to decide where he should grab his breakfast.

He wipes off the sweat on his neck with a towel, trying to regulate his breathing.

He stops as he stands across a coffee shop that also serves some amazing breakfast pastries. He could afford to reward himself after the progress he has made in running.

Decision made, he steels himself, crosses the street and goes inside.

The comforting chatter of the shop wraps around him immediately. Rick waits in line, and finally, he orders.

Richard Castle enjoys his first cup of coffee since Kate Beckett left him for Washington DC.

* * *

**Fifth**

* * *

She should be asleep by now.

Actually, she should damn well be knocked out cold every night judging by how her days go.

Everything about her job is going great. The working environment and everything about it exuded every inch of the privilege that it is. Everyone is focused. Everyone worked themselves as if stopping would mean getting kicked out. Not that it is a problem with her, she has always had a good work ethic. In fact, it may even be the opposite for her. Her tunnel vision with work has at one point or another been the source of her problems in the past.

She fits in well here. She is well liked, and her reputation precedes itself.

But she wonders why she always ends up with the ceiling starting to blur from the amount of time she has been staring at it.

She turns her head.

12:30 AM.

Ironically, her job is the only thing that is helping her from feeling too run down. She can't stand idle time. She can't stand her apartment when there's nothing to do. She can't stand it because it gives her time to think about him, to miss him.

The right side of the bed is undisturbed, as if no one is even lying down at all. Kate closes her eyes and reaches out, almost expecting to feel the shape of someone else. She opens her eyes and curls her fist against the cold and quiet flatness that it truly is.

She sits up.

She's going for a walk.

She's bundled up in sweats as she walks down her neighborhood, no idea where she plans on going, but it's better than wallowing in the cocoon of her sheets, unable to sleep and unable to keep herself from memories.

People are still out on the streets, so she doesn't really feel too alone. She walks around aimlessly, thinking if she should grab a cup of hot chocolate at a cozy café a few blocks down.

Her feet automatically take her to that direction. Stopping outside the shop, she sees a few people inside with their laptops, others with books.

Kate steps in.

After ordering and grabbing her drink, she picks up a random lifestyle magazine that she prefers to read sometimes.

Choosing a comfortable looking armchair, she plops herself down, and flips the pages open.

Her heart stutters. Sound ceases to exist for a few seconds and she feels her palms sweating.

There, in stark-like quality at the middle of the page is Richard Castle himself. It isn't a significant picture, really, just one of many. He apparently attended some charity gala.

Kate grips the pages in her hands until her knuckles turn white, evening out her breathing. Once she gets herself in control, she looks down again to the page, and cannot help herself from tracing the contours of his face.

He looks good. Still a bit tan, possibly from Bora Bora, and seemingly slimmer. She lets her eyes get a fill of him, and forces herself to turn the page.

She regrets her decision.

In another inset photo is him with his arms around a tall brunette. Her face is hidden as they were captured with him leaning in to kiss her cheek.

Her sight blurs as tears well up.

_Oh, this is just ridiculous, Kate._

She abruptly stands up, letting the magazine fall off her lap as she leaves her drink untouched.

She walks out of the coffee shop and starts making her way home, first briskly walking, before starting to jog.

Once she locks her apartment back up, she pulls at the hems of her sweater, turning towards the heater to kick it up.

She realizes that the temperature is already set to nearly sweltering.

She realizes that she isn't trembling from the cold.

* * *

**Sixth**

* * *

Rick Castle breathes in as he walks out of his building.

It's a beautiful afternoon in New York. He makes his way amongst the crowds of people crossing the streets.

He has been on and off lately. Alexis is preparing to go back to school, leaving him to his own devices. Sometimes, he feels okay, other days, he finds himself sinking back into depression.

He knows it's just there, always lingering on the back of his mind, even on the best days where he is able to smile and laugh as if nothing is wrong anymore.

He has gotten over his anger though, now there is just a heavy weariness, a deep sadness. Hundreds of times, he has picked up the phone, itching to call her and ask about her day.

He's gone back to helping out at the twelfth, even without her, he thinks and feels at home at the place that was once hers as well.

The boys, Lanie, and even Gates have been good at cheering him up. Sometimes, in the middle of a case, it's feels as if nothing has change, like he almost expects her to walk out of the break room carrying that blue cup of hers.

They know he's sad, and he suspects, they miss her terribly too. They never talk about it, but they just know.

He contemplates going over there now, though there are no interesting cases as of the moment, so he decides to walk around in the meantime.

Castle finds himself surprised when he finds that he unknowingly walked towards the park.

The park where they had their last conversation.

His throat clogs with the memory. He clenches his fist and slowing walks towards the swing set, thankful to find the premises empty.

He sits down and swings unenthusiastically, looking down at the grass.

He reaches for his phone, clutches it, filled with the rapid, unerring need to hear her voice.

He can't.

Rick stands up and walks back home.

She's pacing.

She cannot stop pacing.

Her heart is thundering in her chest, like the hooves of a thousand horses.

Her palms are sweating and she cannot think straight.

All she knows is, she has to be here, she has to do this. Whatever the outcome, whatever the outcome, this is right.

But no one is answering the door.

She can't decide if she should just call someone to ask. But she cannot make herself pick up her phone, because her hands are shaking, and she cannot take the risk of rejection even before she has the chance to do what she came here for.

Kate gulps in a big, calming breath, sinking down to the wall to give herself a minute.

Everything is a blur, she can barely remember how she got here. So she sits and lets her head thud on the wall.

She closes her eyes, trying to soothe her breathing, when her phone starts ringing and vibrating.

She ignores it. She ignores it at first and plans to let it go on and on in her pocket while she keeps her eyes closed. But the noise is grating on her nerves.

She pulls it out at stifles on her breath.

Castle's smiling face is staring out at her on the screen.

She's too busy staring down at her phone to hear the elevator doors opening.

A dull thud takes her out of her stupor, and she notices an open bottle of water rolling towards her, spilling its contents on the carpeted hallway.

Kate looks up to find Castle pale and wide-eyed, staring down at her.

She wants to cry.

And touch him.

Kiss him.

But mainly weep and ask for forgiveness.

She lifts up her phone. "You're calling me." She rasps.

He snaps out of his trance, digging his phone out of his pocket.

"Sorry." He mutters, offering no explanation.

She stands up from the floor.

She's wearing the first pair of shoes she saw upon opening her closet. It's flat, and has her having to stare up at him to reach his eyes.

They don't say a word.

"Beckett – "

"Rick –"

Tears well in her eyes.

"I messed up." She whispers.

She looks down as tears start rolling on her face.

He's stoic in front of her.

"I fucked everything up." She says again. "And – I don't know what I'm doing here except, I just needed to see you."

He's still not saying anything.

That scares her.

Because, maybe he doesn't care anymore.

But she pushes through.

"I'm a wreck, Rick." She clenches her hands, flits her eyes to his for a moment. He's looking at her, eyes dark but still no expression. "I've been such a wreck, and nothing I do could fix it. I cannot go out on my own most days, terrified to come across something that would trip a memory. I almost breakdown at the thought of losing one of your books. I cannot drink coffee without my stomach rolling over because it _doesn't_ taste right. And I cannot even see a picture of you without collapsing in an emotional heap of tears. I work myself down most days to keep you out of my head, and at night, at night I can't sleep because there is no you in my bed. My place feels cold and hollow and empty, because I couldn't even bring myself to fill it up…because – because it's not _home_" she falters, chest heaving, fists clenching tighter.

She cannot make herself look up yet, but she hears him walking past her without saying a word, opening his door and walking inside.

Fear claws at her chest, but he leaves the door wide open, which she takes as an invitation to follow.

She slowly walks in, knees almost buckling at the sheer force of relief to be here again.

Kate cannot she him anywhere but hears rustling inside his office. She slowly makes her way towards the sound.

She startles as she walks inside his room.

It's a mess.

Papers strewn all over his desk, even under it. Cups and some dishes left unwashed. Several decanters of half-empty scotch bottles stood haphazardly amongst surfaces.

He's standing by the window, shoulders hunched. He doesn't turn when she walks in.

"Rick – "

Castle turns his head to her then, eyes dark and blazing. "This. This is a mess, Beckett."

"Do you have any idea, what you have put me through?"

Kate stops, swallows. She has never seen him like this.

"I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't write properly, Kate." He takes in a breath; hard words falling away as a soft, broken voice takes its place.

"While you have gone and went to a new city, you left me here, in _our_ city, where everything, _everything_, reminded me of you. And I – I can barely think straight when I'm alone, because, it _hurts_, Kate. I just hurt. Everywhere. All the _fucking _time."

And her heart breaks even more.

His hair has fallen on his forehead, and Kate wants to reach out and brush it back. It's making him look more vulnerable, and it takes all her strength to not kneel in front of him, weeping, because she cannot believe what this has done to him.

But if that is what it would take… for once, she is completely willing to do anything.

She takes quivering steps towards him, stopping behind him. Close, but not close enough.

"I miss you, Rick." She says softly. "I just miss you and I couldn't take it anymore."

He turns to look at her. She sees him wavering in his stance, his own tears blurring the stormy blue of his eyes.

"I can't believe you ever thought that we could be without each other." He says brokenly.

She sniffles.

"I'm not stupid enough to make that mistake twice." Her tears choke her, but she continues, "I've been terrible, Castle. Terrible. But I am done, finished. And – if you could ever find it in yourself to forgive me, I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you."

She looks up to his eyes in time to see it soften.

"I've been terrible too." He whispers, all the fight going out of him. "Always so terrible at not loving you."

He reaches out and tugs her towards him.

_Finally._

* * *

First, you think the worst is a broken heart

What's gonna kill you is the second part

And the third, is when your world splits down the middle

And fourth, you're gonna think that you fixed yourself

Fifth, you see them out with someone else

And the sixth is when you admit that you may have messed up a little.

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**AN: I don't even know where this came from. Not a big fan of song fics to begin with. But watching that finale has ruined me. Now **_**every**_** song is about them.**


End file.
